Putting on the Ritz: Murder Inc
by Snixxers
Summary: "This place is the real cats meow. Trust me, best juice joint this side of Broadway." AU PEZBERRY
1. Introduction and Author Notes

|_Introduction|_

**Putting on the Ritz; Murder Inc.**

This story is my new current muse and fascination. Although I'm still working heavily to hash out the details and plot, I'm well aware that this will be taking over my muse for some time. (Not to mention I'll be out of town/busy for the next rough two weeks)

This takes place in the 1920's, during the prohibition and the height of the Jewish Mafia regime. This is a Pezberry story because the couple makes sense (As well as the prompt I originally took over asked for it). For the sake of the story, facts/details are switched up. Such as; I'm aware there weren't female hired guns back then (That I know of, anyway). Also, Rachel only has one dad, and he's straight. Sorry, but I don't really picture a serious Mob Boss being gay. :\

I've researched the topic a fair amount and I'm trying to make this as original/true to the 1920's as I can manage. This includes the slang. Now, I know not all of you are fluent 20's speakers, so at the end of each chapter I will put the slang term meanings so you don't have to go searching them up.

Sorry to the people following She's Got Me Thinking and Challenge. I'll try to update them every once in awhile when I can (I've more or less come to a roadblock on SGMT, really.)

I hope you enjoy this story, as I will be putting a lot of effort into it. The prologue is unbeta'd, but I'm hoping to find a beta soon. If you want to/are up for it, hit me up, I'd appreciate it. Also, reviews are LOVE, so please, share the love. Otherwise, please! Feel free to suggest things that you would want to be in the story. Trust me, I sometimes use them.

Without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen;

Putting on the Ritz; Murder Inc.


	2. PROLOGUE

[PROLOGUE]

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"This place is the real cats meow. Trust me, best juice joint this side of Broadway."

Santana Lopez glanced curiously at the woman standing just outside the speakeasy; cigarette in hand and a well dressed Swell pining for her affections beside her. Seeing Santana's loathe, the flapper smiled a toothy grin and laughed. "Don't tell me you're a Mrs. Grundy, doll." Santana rolled her eyes and the girl raised an eyebrow, "Well you're no rag-a-muffin and I hardly see owls that aren't out for a good night on the town. Trust me, doll, this place has got just what you need. Take a breather and enjoy some giggle water. No better place in the Lower East Side."

Santana's eyes rolled for about the hundredth time as she adjusted her collar and ducked into it, stepping closer to the curb and further into the rain. The girl stepped away from her obvious daddy and put a hand on Santana's forearm and tugged her away from the street. "Come on, sugardoll—"

"Beat it." Santana bit back, pulling her arm out of the woman's grasp. The flapper just threw up an exasperated hand before turning back to her eager lover. The Latina stood, brooding for a moment more before she checked her watch. Then on her own damned will, she turned around and headed into the speakeasy. The place smelled of dank wood, liquor and cigar smoke; the inside was filled with men and women alike and the clatter put Santana at ease. She inhaled and ran her fingers through her thick brunette hair and headed straight for the bar.

"Scotch, on the rocks."

She sat down just as the girl she was about so sit next to ordered her drink. Santana leaned forward resting her weight on her elbows and staring blatantly ahead of her. The tender fixed up the request and placed it on the bar in front of the girl before turning to Santana. "For you, Sheba?" Santana turned a cold gaze to the bartender before she waved him off. "Whiskey."

Grumbling, the man went off to fill the order and Santana sighed darkly. She could feel eyes on her and she turned instinctively to glare at the girl sitting next to her. She was fairly short, long brown hair that (thankfully) wasn't bobbed like the rest of the girls around them. She was Jewish, that much Santana could tell. She gave her a once over and sighed. "What's eating you?" she deadpanned. The girl smirked knowingly and leaned back a bit, taking a heavy sip of her scotch.

"You a moll?" her voice was confident, if not rather loud.

"Now what would give you that idea, Jane?"

The girl gave another flashy smile and shrugged casually. "Isn't often you see a girl like you slumming this kind of place." She paused as the bartender handed Santana her drink before she gave a casual once over, "You're not in your glad rags and petting with some young lad; one can only assume."

"I could say the same for you, Princess." She spat tamely before taking the drink she'd been given and setting it roughly back onto the bar. The girl was about to reply when a tall, pretty blonde girl came gliding over with all the grace of a hoofer and took the open stool next to her. She smiled and Santana briefly wondered how both girls managed to have the brightest smiles she'd ever come across. The blonde just ordered a drink and started talking to the brunette, but Santana tuned them out.

Santana sighed heavily and turned in her stool, drink in hand, and leaned back against the sturdy wood to survey the crowd. The girl continued to stare at her before taking another swig of her scotch. The blonde noticed her presence too and she smiled innocently before distracting herself with the person on the other side of her.

"Level with me; you a dick?"

Santana raised a brow and glanced over at the curious brunette. "No."

"On the lam?"

Santana rolled her eyes and turned her head to look at the girl straight on. She was still leaned over the bar and was playing with the rim of her glass; watching Santana bemusedly. "Not currently." Her eyes lit up for a moment in knowing and she smiled.

"How about you, pup? Moll?" Santana shot back.

"Nope, well, not tonight." The girl smirked and shrugged.

"Dick?"

The girl raised a brow. "Hardly. On the lam? No, I'm not." She finished for Santana. The Latina nodded.

"You're friend a hoofer?"

"Yes. She's very good at it, too."

"I could tell." Santana deadpanned. She took a drink of her whiskey and then twirled the glass in her hand. "So what're you doing here?"

"Night on the town; what else?" she smirked and gave a low chuckle. "I suspect you've got other motives, though." Her smile widened as Santana shot her a wary glance, "Listen, you may not be a moll, but I can tell someone who's related to the Mob in some shape or form. So what are you doing here, anyway?"

Santana pursed her lips tightly. Liam Levinsky was the boss of the Jewish mafia and her current highest bidder. Santana Lopez worked for Murder Incorporated; guns for hire to whichever family needed them, and paid them, the most. She'd spoken privately with the big cheese himself not but an hour ago; in a private hotel room under guard by his goonies. She didn't have a specific target yet, but the Family was in the market for the best guns they could get. Santana Lopez was one of the best damn guns in New York City.

"None of your beeswax." She shot back. This made the girl laugh, and that annoyed Santana. She turned to face her and sighed. "What makes you so interested?" she hissed.

"You the Levinskys' new torpedo?" she inquired, ignoring Santana's question. Santana's eyes widened and then quickly narrowed. As if her reaction was answer enough, the brunette smiled and stood up, placing her glass onto the bar. "I see. Well, baby, I should be going. Father expects me home soon and I'm sure the boys' are tired of being on guard.

Guard? Santana stood up but the brunette, with her blonde friend, was already walking away. "What's your name?" she called after them. The short girl stopped and turned around, smiling softly and spreading her arms in a grand gesture; as if it should be obvious. It wasn't until she opened her mouth to speak that Santana realized who she was. She was Levinsky's only daughter. Known for having quite the voice and intelligence. She'd changed her last name; finding that her maiden name wasn't star material. Santana blinked.

"Rachel. Rachel Berry." She said, just loud enough for Santana to hear, before she turned on her heel and walked out of the bar, blonde friend (And shortly after, two males followed her out) in tow; leaving a very mortified Santana in her wake.

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SLANG MEANINGS;;

Juice joint= Speakeasy

Speakeasy=Places selling liquor illegally during the prohibiton

Swell= Rich man

Mrs. Grundy= Straight-laced uptight person (Usually a girl)

Owl= Person who stays out late at night

Giggle Water=Alcohol

Sheba=An attractive girl/girlfriend (in this case the former)

Moll= A gangster's girlfriend

Jane= Used as a term for any girl

Glad rags= 'out on the town' clothes

Petting= Making out/seducing

Hoofer=Dancer

Level with me=Be honest with me

Dick= Private Investigator

On the lam= On the run from the cops

Torpedo=Hired gun


	3. Chapter One

**Chapter One of Putting on the Ritz; Murder Inc.;**

"_**I thought maybe you'd have a better appreciation for life; given how yours is always on the line."**_

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A crude knocking on the door woke Santana from her light sleep. Instantly aware of her surroundings and the tender light filtering through her curtains, she rose cautiously from her sheets. Opening her night-stand drawer, she removed her pistol and tucked it into the back of her sleep shorts and under her tank top before heading down the hall and to the front door. One glance in the peephole and she sighed in relief before swinging open the door to greet Liam and another man.

"Good morning Santana! Sorry to wake you so early, but Russo here was dying to meet you. Won't you join us for lunch?" Liam greeted, not bothering with formalities.

Santana's mouth opened to kindly reject, but the tone of Liam's voice offered no room for argument in the matter. She gave a curt nod of acceptance and offered a smile. She stepped back, opening up the doorway and waved an arm to welcome them in. "Please, come inside. Make yourself at home Mr. Levinsky, Russo. Let me clean up a little and I'll gladly join you for lunch." Liam gave a nod and Santana took back to her room to freshen up.

From inside her small bathroom she could hear Liam and Russo chatting quietly in the living room. She sighed, combing her fingers through her brunette locks before pulling it back into a ponytail. A quick face wash and the throwing on of more casual wear was all it took before she padded back to meet her Boss in the living room. They were situated on the couch in pure leisure and Santana took the moment to better observe both them men.

When she had spoken with Liam earlier that week, she had been more focused on the guards stationed around the room rather then Liam himself. Liam wasn't like your typical Mob Boss in look. He was tall, broad shouldered and fit. His waist tapered in and he wore simple black slacks and a white dress shirt that tucked into his pant-line. He had a dark complexion; skin of a smooth chocolate that was dark enough to make him almost appear Negro. His head was smooth, hairless from even stubble. The only facial hair he had was a well trimmed beard on the curve of his chin. His eyes were soft and kind, making it hard to believe he controlled a heroine trade route and had men killed at his very whim.

Russo was sleazy in look, and it gave Santana an uneasy feel about his person. He was much shorter then Liam, not much taller then Santana. He was wider-set then Liam, but not by much. He wasn't as fit; having more fat to his stomach and thicker legs. His face was long and his shin smooth and his mustache well-kempt, much like his slicked black hair. He reminded her vaguely of the actor John Gilbert, but he definitely had a darker air about him.

Interrupted from her observations, she was aware that Russo had spotted her standing in the hallway and his stare had attracted Liam's attention. "Ah! Lopez." He stood, followed by Russo, before the three of them headed for the door.

The ride there was relatively pleasant, though Russo's constant staring was starting to rub Santana the wrong way. She was about to snap at him about his blatant behavior when the car pulled up to the curb and Liam announced their arrival with an enthused motion to the car door. The chauffer opened their door and they piled out into the sunlight and the bustling sidewalk.

The restaurant wasn't busy this early in the morning, though the hostess escorted them to a more private booth in the furthest corner. Santana made a note that this was probably owned by the Levinsky family, thus a probable stop on the drug chain he oversaw. Liam sat down and Russo took the opposite seat, leaving Santana to choose who to sit next to. While Russo was not her preferred choice, she ended up sliding into the booth next to him.

"Lopez, I wanted to better introduce you to Russo here. Russo has been in the Family for almost as long as you've been alive. He worked for my Father not long before he passed, and now works for me. He's been very loyal and I trust him with my life."

Santana gave a nod of greeting to Russo and held out her hand to shake. His meaty hand wrapped around hers and she had to check herself before she openly winced at the touch. Russo didn't give a smile of greeting and Santana didn't bother with trying to be so pleasant with him any more. So this Russo man was Liam's Right-Hand in the Mob? She turned to look at Liam, taking the water she was given by the waitress and sipped thoughtfully on it.

"I see. While this meeting was a pleasant surprise, I have to ask; is there something you needed me for, Levinsky?" she said politely. Normally she wouldn't give a damn about pleasantries, but this was her Boss, and she had to keep their relationship healthy if she wanted to continue working for him much longer.

Liam let out a hearty laugh and Santana smiled mechanically. "No, no! I had been telling Russo about the new torpedo and he was surprised I had chosen a female for the job. Requested to meet you and today was a wonderful day for such a thing." He waved his hand dismissively. "After hearing your records and your high recommendations, I admit I too was eager to understand you, Lopez."

Santana smiled and gave a half-hearted shrug. "I understand that a female torpedo would offer some confusion. I'm not the only female in the business, though." She smiled knowingly. "But I owe her silence, you understand. Even if competition, we have a code of understanding." Liam's nod showed he understood, but Russo was opening his mouth to implore further. Santana shot him a look that said 'I'm not saying anything else on the matter', and he promptly shut his mouth.

Their food arrived and Liam dug into his with gusto. Russo wasn't ready to sit and eat, though, so he turned to Santana and spoke. "So, Lopez, just how did you become such an asset to the Incorporation? You wouldn't happen to be related to Alex Lopez, would you?"

Santana smiled. "The very one. As you know, my father was well off in the business. Taught me everything he knew; I suppose that's why I've come to where I stand now." She informed him, starting on her sandwich. Russo didn't say anything else for a few moments and the silence was starting to make Santana itch.

It was a voice that didn't belong to either man that made Santana's head jerk up and her eyes to widen uncharacteristically. "Mr. Tyson told me I would find you here, father." Rachel Berry approached the table and smiled. "Hello Daddy, Mr. Russo—"she paused at the sight of Santana, eyes widened slightly, despite the teasing smile etched into her lips. "Oh, well hello."

"Rachel, darling, this is Santana Lopez. She works for Daddy now." Liam introduced, because Santana was too caught up in her own thoughts. Ever since their run-in a few nights ago, Santana had fumed over how easily the girl had been able to read her and how she had been so negligent to realize who she was before she made an idiot of herself.

"Hello Miss Lopez." She grinned and Santana gave a nod, with a soft hello in return. Rachel turned to face her father and her smile widened. "Me and Brittany are going out tonight," she glanced back at Santana. "Perhaps Miss Lopez would like to come with us?" her polite smile never faltered even when Santana's lips pursed in want to refuse. Liam, however, thought that was a grand idea, and he said so.

"Indeed, Rachel! Good idea! I can give Finn and Noah the night off while you three have a girls' night. Is that alright with you, Lopez?" Santana's face flushed but she nodded. Rachel gave a soft chuckle, catching the unease wafting off the Latina.

"Sounds delightful, doll. I'll meet you at Bijou's tonight? 8 o'clock. Dress in your best Glad rags. I assume you have some?" Santana shrugged and tried to offer a weak smile. Content with the answer, Rachel turned on her heel and marched out to be met by, who Santana assumed to be, Finn and Noah. Santana couldn't help but watch the sway of her hips as she walked. Noah shot Santana a wink before they vanished from sight. Liam finished off his meal and Russo didn't say a word; but Santana couldn't stop a sigh as she took another bite of her sandwich.

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_"Oh, Santana! Look at this place! It's the bees knees!"_

_ Santana couldn't help but feel the energy pumping through her as they approached the Speakeasy. It was her first real chance at alcohol ever since the Prohibition law had been put into motion. She was still young, and the thrill that had her friend Laura hyped up was starting to rub off on her. It wasn't her first time drinking, not by a long shot, but Laura had just recently gotten into the Flapper fad, and her new attitude had called them out for a drink._

_ Of course, the place was hectic with men and women alike as they sought the luxury of liquor. Santana took an immediate observation of the people inside as best she could; like her father told her to do. Laura, oblivious to Santana's defensive state, was swooning at the crowd within. "Oh San! Look at all the handsome fellas!"_

_The young girl went twirling away into the crowd, leaving Santana to sigh and head for the bar. Upon reaching it, however, a hand grabbed at her wrist and stopped her. Santana jerked away and turned a furious glare on the drunken man who seemed intent on making him known._

"_Well hello there. Now aren't you just a choice bit of calico?"_

"_Sorry, bank's closed." Santana hissed back, turning to head for the bar again._

"_Looks like we have a real bearcat here!"he exclaimed, grinning foolishly. He followed after the Latina, determination and stupidity overrunning his logic. Santana sat down and he took a seat next to her, leaning messily against the wooden counter. "Tell me, you want to be my quiff tonight?" he grinned sickeningly and Santana scowled, shoulders tensing to prevent herself from punching him in the face._

"_Lay off, drugstore cowboy."_

"_Oh come now, can't we at least spoon? So tell me, cash or check?"_

"_Screw off."_

"_Oh come now, I haven't gotten anything interesting all night."_

_Santana rolled her eyes. "Tell someone who cares. Now fuck off."_

_The man gave a snort of disapproval before standing and stumbling off. Santana shook her head with a sigh, before the seat was taken again, but this time by Laura. She was smiling and appeared to be having a great time. "Santana! Join me and dance!"_

_Santana shook her head. "Nah. I'm just going to enjoy my drink, thank you." She smiled reassuringly when Laura frowned. "Don't worry about it, Laura. Go have fun, and don't take any wooden nickels." Laura nodded before standing and disappearing into the crowd once more._

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"Lopez. I'm glad to see that you do have some appropriate clothes for the occasion." Rachel had finally shown up and settled into the stool next to her. Santana glanced at her and sighed; shrugging lamely, she returned to her drink. Rachel, not to be phased, raised an eyebrow. "I sense that you are not thrilled about spending a night out with me, Miss Lopez." Santana didn't acknowledge her. "I understand this was out of obligation for impressing my father?"

"You'd be correct, Rachel." Santana deadpanned, still not sparing the girl a glance. "So I'm quite peeved you would ask when you knew I couldn't refuse." She bit back, not bothering to be formal with her Boss's daughter. For all Santana cared, she just had to deal with Rachel for the sake of keeping her job. She didn't have to like her.

Rachel appeared to be amused with Santana's answer and she gave a low chuckle. "You make it sound like spending an evening with me and my friend is like torture." When, again, Santana didn't reply, Rachel went on. "If you must know, I invited you along in hopes to get to know you. You seemed so withdrawn into your profession that I thought you could use a night out." She clarified.

Santana cast a sidelong glance at her and set down her drink with a sigh. "My job is my life, Miss Berry. Having friends isn't part of my job; never has been and never will be. Friends are a liability, and nights out are pointless without them. I assume you understand that?" Rachel observed her curiously when the Latina decided to turn and face her fully.

"Forgive me, Miss Lopez. I wasn't aware that you were such a wet blanket. I thought maybe you'd have a better appreciation for life; given how yours is always on the line. I assume you understand that? " She shot back. Santana's brows shot to her hairline and Rachel gave her a coy smile. "That's what I thought." She watched as Santana threw back a shot and placed the glass on the counter. Santana's eyes roamed the crowd behind Rachel and her expression hardened. Rachel turned to scan the crowd just as a blonde girl approached the bar. She hesitated when she saw Santana, but continued to her seat on Santana's left.

"Hello Santana." She greeted.

"Quinn." Santana replied, a curt nod her form of greeting. The blonde sighed and ordered a drink before turning to watch Santana. "It's been awhile since I've seen you, Lopez. How is everything?"

"Alright, I suppose. Hired out to the Levinsky's this week." Santana replied quietly.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Liam Levinsky?" Santana nodded and Quinn sighed. "I see. Impressive. I'm still floating about the business, working for whoever needs a job done. Just like Pops." She smiled weakly when Santana provided a small chuckle.

"Your father never has been hired permanently to a family, has he?" she smiled. "Your old man never did settle long. Just like you, seems."

"I remember your father being quiet the versatile torpedo himself, Santana." She retorted gently.

Santana shrugged, smiling fondly. "Yea, well, what can I say? He was a talented man."

"He was."

They fell into a comfortable silence until Rachel cleared her throat and both girls looked up at her. She raised an eyebrow and Santana sighed. "Right. Quinn, this is Rachel Berry. You know who she is. Rachel, this is Quinn Fabray A…friend of mine. She works for Murder Incorporated."

"Pleasure to meet you, Quinn. Santana and I here were just discussing having nights out and their relevance to her life. Seems she thinks they serve little purpose. Yet I don't see you locked away in your home on such a beautiful night."

Quinn raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Santana; a look of 'really?' Santana just shrugged and rolled her eyes. Quinn looked back at Rachel and smiled. "Santana always has been the solo type. Getting out isn't much on her agenda."

Rachel sighed resignedly. "I thought perhaps maybe I could change that. She does work for my Father, after all. I like to get to know his associates from time to time. Santana has plenty of interesting things I would love to find out."

The Latina sighed. "I don't share secrets." She deadpanned.

Quinn and Rachel laughed, despite the seriousness in which Santana had said it. Santana sighed and watched as Brittany made her way back from the dance floor and hovered by her friend. "Hello." She greeted, beaming a smile at them. Quinn immediately took interest in the tall hoofer; an interest that Santana didn't over look.

"Quinn, this is Brittany. Brittany, Quinn." Santana introduced.

Quinn offered a bright smile. "Hello Brittany. I saw you dancing earlier. You're very good."

"Thanks Quinn. Do you dance?" Brittany returned.

"No, not really." Quinn shrugged and chuckled. "I'm more hand-eye coordinated then eye-foot coordinated."

Brittany's face crumpled in confusion. "Oh. I'm..sorry?"

A moment of silence fell over them before Quinn filled it. "Perhaps you could teach me sometime." She smiled. This seemed to brighten up Brittany and she nodded happily.

"Okay!" She plucked Quinn out of her seat and led her back to dance. Santana watched the two blondes blend into the crowd. Rachel watched as well, before turning to Santana and smiling lightly.

"She seemed nice." She watched Santana's face as it fell slightly.

"She is." She sighed. "She always has been a good girl at heart." She paused, testing her words. "At times I wish she could have a better life then this; to meet someone and settle down; have a kid and be happy. I hate to imagine her out on the job, risking her life when someone like her shouldn't be worrying about those sorts of things."

Rachel's expression was unreadable when Santana glanced at her. "And you think you're any different? That maybe she thinks the same for you?"

Santana's eyes fell to the floor and she didn't reply.

"_Santana. This is my good friend Russell Fabray."_

_Young Santana stood behind her fathers leg, peering up at the tall man who she'd been introduced to. There had been a knock at the door and Santana had followed her father to answer it. She cringed behind her father and the taller Latino chuckled heartily. "Come now, Princess. Nothing to be afraid of. Mr. Fabray informs me he brought his daughter over for you to play with."_

_From behind Russell a young Quinn peeked out to survey the Latina curiously. Santana hid from the girl again and Alex's voice grew stern. "Darling, don't be afraid. Fear is a sign of weakness. Now, go play with the girl and let Daddy talk."_

_Steeling herself, the young Santana stepped shyly out from behind her father and watched as Quinn appeared behind Russell's legs to watch her. Holding out her hand like she'd seen her father do, Santana watched the girl. "Hi. I'm Santana Lopez." She murmured softly. Quinn watched her hand before slowly stepping out from behind her dad and hesitantly taking Santana's hand._

"_I'm Quinn." _

Santana let out a sigh as Rachel, Brittany, Quinn and herself stepped out into the damp air of the city night and awaited a taxi. Santana watched as Quinn turned to Brittany and smiled. "I had fun! Let's do it again soon?" Brittany just nodded, hugging the smaller girl into her arms and assuring her that she would see her again soon. Santana turned her focus away and looked at Rachel.

"Look, I wouldn't say I had fun, but you're definitely not as bad as I thought you would be."

Rachel smiled. "Thanks, I guess. You're very interesting, Santana Lopez. I would like to get to know you better, if you'd let me. I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again."

Santana nodded just as Quinn flagged down a taxi and said her farewells. Santana watched the taxi until it was out of sight before getting into a taxi with Rachel and Brittany. She would escort the girls home and to safety before she would return home herself. That was an unspoken rule. Liam had dismissed Finn and Noah for the night, which had left Santana as acting guard. It was obligatory.

Brittany and Rachel chatted up until they pulled to Rachel's house. They paid the driver and Santana followed them inside. The light was on when Rachel unlocked the door and the three girls piled in. Liam was sitting on the couch, a book in hand. He glanced up when they shut the door and smiled. "Girls! Glad you made it home safe. Did you have fun?" he closed his book and placed it on the cushion as he stood up and hugged his daughter.

Rachel nodded. "We did, Father."

Liam nodded and turned a gaze on Santana, even when he addressed Rachel. "Honey, will you and Brittany please go to your room? Santana and I have business to discuss." Rachel shot Santana a look before nodding and heading down the hall with Brittany in tow. Liam waited until they were out of earshot before smiling. "Lopez, I need you to accompany me to a Business meeting tonight. I don't trust them entirely, and I would feel safer with your skill by my side."

Santana nodded silently. Her first real job and she'd be overseeing an Exchange. She couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

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**Slang Terms:**

Torpedo: Hired Gun

Choice bit of calico: Attractive girl

Bank's closed: No kissing or making out, i.e "Sorry, Mac, Bank's closed."

Bearcat: Fiery or feisty girl.

Quiff: Slut or cheap prostitute.

Drugstore Cowboy: A man who loiters around public places and tries to pick up women.

Spoon: Talk about love/kiss

Cash or check?: "Do we kiss now or later?"

Don't take any wooden nickels: "Don't to anything stupid."

Wet Blanket: Kill-joy


	4. Chapter Two

_P_utting _o_n _t_he _R_itz; _M_urder _I_nc.

_C_hapter Two

"_Santana's grip tightened on the trigger, the metal indenting the pad of her index and turning it white"_

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They say drug trafficking was done with little honor. Along with prostitution, the general racket of working in the drug cartel was looked down upon. Some people just didn't understand money when it was right under their noses, though. The drug market has been and always will be under high demand. The use for heroine, cocaine, marijuana and pills was ever present in the American system; perhaps that's why the multi-million dollar profit was hard to look up, as dishonorable as it was.

Liam was one of the smarter Dons. He didn't overlook the opportunity and he saw the chance to make a high profit in a traffic that didn't have near as many competitors as the other rackets. But Liam wasn't the only one in the business, and the competition was still there.

How trafficking worked is a little hard to explain, but the simple way to put it is this; rackets. You know Sweets Bakery down the street? It's really a secret prostitution ring. Have the know how and the links to get past the double doors that say 'Employees Only' and you'll find yourself in the real business.

But even then, if you were the Don, you had to control the place; strings attached. It takes an equal balance of threat and intimidation, but once you get passed the guards hired by the rival Family to protect the business, you have to go to the shop owner and demand a cut of his profits. Thus, you own a racket in the Ring. Control all the rackets of a particular ring in a business, i.e drugs, in the City and you own a world of wealth in your possession.

Santana Lopez was there for the hard part. The 'getting past the guards alive' part. She was there to escort Liam safely to the boss. It usually meant something along the lines of 'lots of flying bullets' and 'kill the competition; leave no one alive'. It worked for her, really. It's what she was raised, trained and built for. To take out the competition and be the last one standing. Or, it used to be. Now it was take out the competition, and if called for, make sure Liam is the last one standing. That's what it was like in the Family. The Don came first.

The warehouse was old, but it was obviously in use in form of smoke billowing from the chimneys erected along its spine and the fire roaring in its pit. The soft orange glow was the only thing that stretched into the darkness around it and lit up the dingy concrete walls. Santana sat crouched behind a wooden crate some three hundred yards away, trained eyes scouring the faces of the men through the darkness.

Liam stood behind her, loading a couple bullets into his pistol with little concern for being spotted. It wasn't likely to happen anyway, but Santana couldn't help but be annoyed with his brash attitude. Ignoring the want to chastise him, she focused instead on coming up with a plan. "Levinsky, I'd suggest you sit down and don't do anything stupid. I won't be held responsible for you getting shot because you decided it'd be fun to play peek-a-boo, got it?"

Perhaps he wasn't used to being berated, but Liam's expression shifted to bemuse and he chuckled. "Fair enough, Lopez. I'll watch a pro in action." He quipped as he took a few steps back and sat down on a small crate. He waved a hand at her to continue and Santana smirked darkly.

There was always a thrill to holding a gun in your hand. To have so much power and devastation that left Santana pulsing with energy. She stood up, sniper rifle in hand and nodded curtly before positioning herself in the spot she had scoped out as a perfect place to open fire and still remain protected and out of sight.

Crates littered the area, but there was a spot where a stack of three wide and two tall had just enough room between two of the top ones for Santana to rest and operate the rifle. She took a deep breath as she positioned the gun and peered down the scope. The white crosshairs were placed unwaveringly on one of her enemy's chest and her finger twitched against the cool metal of the trigger as she steadied herself.

"_Mija, it's not about time. You have all the time in the world and if you just focus, that bullet will go exactly where you want it to."_

Even now her father's words echoed faintly at the back of her mind and she could fondly remember the first time she had shot a gun. How she had trembled and the sweat pooled across her forehead in anticipation and excitement. She'd been overzealous and cocky, but the scrutinizing eye of her father was enough to set her courage on the shelf.

A cool breeze picked up and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face; the strand tickling at her nose as it slid past. The Latina remained a statue, perfectly calm and decided with one eye squinted shut as the other gazed unblinkingly down the barrel of a gun. Liam watched on as one minute passed, and then two. His curiosity piqued, but he knew better then to speak; to disrupt the hired gun in the throes of action. So he remained silent and patient, waiting and waiting for what seemed like eternity.

The soft splatter of rain started down on them as thunder roiled heavily overhead. Dark clouds drifted over the dim slice of the moon and cast the warehouse in a foreboding shadow. Lights flickered on from the building walls, adding more light onto the grounds and workers about it. Santana's grip tightened on the trigger, the metal indenting the pad of her index and turning it white.

One last roll of thunder and Santana blinked slowly, gave a calming sigh and a millisecond later her finger coiled around the trigger.

"_Pops, this is mi orgullo y __alegria, Santana."_

"_Ah! Alex. So this is the infamous daughter I have heard so much about, si?"_

"_The very one! Taught her all my tricks. I think she's even better then her old man!" Alex's arm draped proudly over Santana's shoulders and the Latina smiled warmly up at her father. Pops, a good friend of her fathers that worked with Murder Incorporated, was eyeing Santana admiringly._

_Pops gave a hearty laugh; the sound deep and comforting. "Well, Santana, you'll have to show me some of those secrets. Your father always has been the top dog around here." _

"_Oh, I don't know about that. An assassin never tells her secrets." Santana winked with a smirk. "Besides, it takes a Lopez to pull off those stunts." She was eighteen and today was her first day officially working for the same company as her father. It was easy for her to look up to the man and his loveable aura. She'd always admired him and from a young age had decided she'd set out to fill her father's shoes one day._

_Alex clapped a hand on her back. "That's my girl! A true Lopez, this one!" He smiled brightly and turned to Pops. "I want to get her hired out on a mission first thing. Show off her skill and get her name out there. Do we have any hits today?"_

_Pops gave a nod and headed back to a desk to retrieve a folder. "Just an overnight guard job. I was going to give it to Sammy, but I think it's a perfect opportunity for Miss Santana here."_

"_Perfect."_

The force of the bullet sent her target reeling backwards and into the wall of the warehouse just before he crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. Immediately sprung into action, the men around him scattered like ants; some pulling guns to face their unseen attacker and the workers fleeing for cover.

Santana ducked down and loaded another bullet into the chamber. Pulling back up, she put an eye back to the scope and within three seconds had another man down; the bullet placed right between the eyes. Two more loads and Santana had two more guards down before she turned and tossed the sniper away and into the darkness. She drew a Magnum from the holster at her side, loaded in a magazine and then smirked darkly at Liam.

Liam stood, smiling widely; his white teeth a stark contrast to his skin and the night. "Let's move." Santana turned without a word and headed unflinchingly into the fray of war.

It took approximately three point four seconds for the men to spot Santana advancing on them from the top of the hill. Confusion set in at the sight of a woman, appealingly plain and unthreatening, headed towards them. A few gun points faltered as they questioned themselves over what was happening. It took another four point seven seconds for them to see the glint of metal from beneath her trench coat; at this exact moment the said clothing burst open as she wielded a pistol and her Magnum and at point blank range took out their first guard as she came to him.

As if in slow motion, the guns went back up and pointed themselves at the Latina; but it was too late for six of them as Santana's rapid bullet placement left them in a lifeless heap. One shot rang out but the aim was off and it whizzed off some twenty feet behind her. Ducking to the side and behind the crate of a man she'd just killed, she took the time out to reload her pistol.

Liam was in hot pursuit, though, and while the men were distracted by Santana, they failed to notice Liam making his way carefully towards them while keeping cover behind various objects.

With a precision that didn't quite meet Santana's, the remaining four men were joined to the casualty's number. Standing up from her shelter, Santana glanced at Liam and gave a silent nod before they headed to the iron doors and that lead into the warehouse.

Inside, they were met with no resistance, which automatically set both of them on alert. The workers had all been warned b their fleeing comrades and were hiding in any spot they could find. Ignoring them, Santana took the lead up the stairs and down the hall to where they had assumed the boss's office would be. Kicking open the door, Santana held out her pistol and swung it around the room. It was dark, except a single candle on the wooden desk, where a portly, balding man sat fearfully in his seat.

Santana was hit with unease the moment she stepped in the room; but before she could say anything, Liam was pushing past her and heading for the man. A whoosh of cold air slammed into her back and she turned in time to see two burly men slam the door shut behind them. Liam whirled around just as the light was switched on, revealing a half dozen men in the room. One man stood behind the Boss, his gun digging into the back of his head while three men flanked him. Santana recognized him as a Soldier for the Rasito Family.

"Evening, Levinsky." He said.

_The car ride took place almost immediately after Pops had given them the manila folder with the address and time of guard. It was not but about thirteen blocks from where the Murder Incorporation bunkered down; but it still seemed like an eternity until she pulled up to the curb of Dock's Tavern. It was a three story building and the particular business was on the corner and open on both sides. It wasn't anything like a Prostitution or Drug racket, but merely a launderer; a place where money was routed to keep the authorities from tracking the money directly. _

_Sighing, she stalled the engine and stepped out into the street, where the faint drizzle of rain fell from cloud engorged skies. Heading up the steps, she was greeted with a wolf-whistle from one of the already posted guards. She ignored him as she tugged the collar of her coat up and the brim of her fedora down. She was to report to the Elway Micusso to announce her arrival._

_The reaction she got wasn't short of anything she expected. "Is this a joke?" he dared, laughing as he prodded the man beside him. Santana smiled tersely, chuckling along despite the urge to knock him a new one. "Seriously? You're here to cover for Tooks? Who sent you?"_

"_Clooney; Murder Incorporated."_

"_Pops? What is he? Out of his mind?" Elway was attractive, despite the grizzly scar that disfigured a quarter of his face. Blue eyes examined Santana and he paused. "Well, might as well humor the man. What's your name, torpedo?"_

"_Santana." She replied, taking a seat in the open stool next to him. He regarded her carefully, obviously expecting a last name; one she didn't give him. Often she was compared to her father when she gave her last name, and she wanted her name to be known; stand out without being asked 'You Alex's girl?'._

"_I see. Welcome aboard Santana. Don't you worry about a thing; this place is secure as a prison cell." He commented, slapping her on the back with a gruff guffaw. _

_When she looks back at it now, she'll starkly remember the snide comment she was about to give right then. About how prison wasn't as secure as people bought it to be; about how her father had broken out of it. Twice._

_She remembers the words forming in her mouth before the sound of bullets drown it out._

"Christian." Liam spit back, eyes narrowing spitefully, "I'm afraid now isn't a good time to talk. I'm in the process of making a deal. Go run in play while the grown-ups talk."

Christian bristled and tried to save face by glancing at Santana. A look of shock and lust crossed his features as he smiled perversely to her. "And who is this pretty lady?" Santana, who was still poised with her gun pointed at him, let her eyes dart around the room before landing on him and narrowing her eyes.

"Lopez." She snarled, taking pleasure in the look of fear flash behind his eyes as she spoke. She watched as his Adams apple bobbed with his dry swallow and a trickle of sweat appeared on his brow. Arching a brow in challenge, Santana remained silent. She knew they were in a very dangerous position, and being a smart ass wasn't going to help the situation.

"Liam. I'm aware you've been making moves in the drug cartel. Boss doesn't like that one bit." Christian started again, turning his gaze back to Liam. The said Don was shifting warily on his feet, doing the same thing that Santana was doing; looking for a way out. His eyes met hers in an attempt to convey his urgency.

Turning back to Christian, he put on his confident air of indifference. "That so? Since when did the Italian's take interest in this bracket? Last I checked you dabbled in Chop Shops and Gambling. Is he really getting that desperate?" he smirked.

Despite his previous unnerve, his position of obvious advantage emboldened him. His face grew angry and his finger twitched on the trigger. "Bold words for someone standing in the face of death, Liam." He retorted.

Liam gave a dark laugh; "Are you sure about that? As I see it, you're the one facing her." The hair on Santana's arms lifted at the known meaning as Christian's eyes flitted back to her for a split second in fear.

"You'll be wise to listen to what I have to say, Liam." He started up again. Liam glanced at Santana again, trying to get a read on her motives. Santana kept her eyes dancing around the room. Getting impatient with Liam's lack of reaction, Christian pulled the trigger and the man sitting in his desk slumped forward onto the wooden structure.

Everyone's attention snapped back to Christian and he smiled sadistically. "Oops."

Lopez snarled to herself. With the business owner dead, there was nothing that could come of the situation except one or both parties ending up dead. Knowing that standing here any longer would only result in their death, Santana acted in one, swift chain of motions.

Her gun coiled in her grip as she pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced Christian's chest. He fell out of view behind the desk and Santana pivoted; taking out the two men guarding the door. By now, the three men who had flanked Christian were reacting instinctively. They made to duck behind the desk, but Santana took one out before he made it.

Turning to Liam, she noticed Christian had maneuvered to the side of the desk and was pointing his pistol directly at Liam's back. Santana lurched forward; knocking Liam to the side just as a bullet hissed past them. They both landed, sprawled out on the floor, before Santana was back on her feet. She added another two bullets to Christian's head for good measure before crouching behind the desk. Liam was positioned next to her and they locked gazes before Santana gave a nod and they both stood and aimed their guns at the top of the desk; the two men hiding under the lip of it and out of view.

They let out a flurry of bullets into the wood and for once Santana was thankful the material wood was so thin; enough that their bullets pierced right through as they emptied their clips.

Left standing, Santana exchanged a glance with Liam. They were both panting hard and hand their empty guns still pointed at the desk before Santana's face broke into a dark grin and a bubble of laughter rumbled out of her chest. For the first time since he had met Santana, Liam was scared of her.

_The coffee shop was busy this early in the morning and two men sat opposite each other at a quaint booth with a newspaper spread between them. The headline read 'Dock's A Warzone; Massacre leaves 23 dead' and a picture of the rusty bar was shown just below it._

_The first man, with a head full of hair and a mustache that reached his chin, looked at it and sighed. "You hear what happened?"_

_The second man, short and less gruff in look, shook his head. "Nah, nothing other then what the paper said. That's Carmine's place, ain't it?"_

"_Sure is. Both Carmine's men and Bonito's were found there. In fact, Derek Ziems, Bonito's Capo was found dead there. I'm guessing he was leading some soldiers and a couple guns to take over the place. Looks like he failed."_

"_Ziems? Dead? That doesn't make sense. That guy has more bullet scars then he does teeth. Whoever killed him must've been good."_

"_That's just it. I talked to Stenson and he was at Dock's right after the whole mess. Said the only person he found alive was some girl by the name of Santana Lopez. Covered in blood, dazed and drinking a fucking beer at the bar like nothing happened."_

"_Ain't that Alex's girl?"_

"_Yea. I asked around and found out it was her first day with Murder Inc., and her first job. She was the only one left alive. Witnesses say they say her pull the trigger on Ziem's."_

"_You're saying she killed Ziems?"_

"_So they say. I don't know the details myself, but they've already started up rumors about her."_

"_Like what?"_

"_Well, do you know what they call her now?"_

Liam glanced across to the passenger's seat, where Santana was gazing absently out the tinted windows with a far-off look to her eyes. The warehouse was just vanishing from view behind them and Santana had yet to say a word since they'd left.

Santana felt Liam's eyes on her and turned to meet his gaze, eyebrow raised and questioning. Liam kept up her gaze for only a split second more before he was forced to look away. "Hey," he paused, testing his words, "What you did back there was pretty amazing."

Santana shrugged and turned her attention back to the scenery outside the window. It was still dark and the rain was falling in torrents. Liam fell silent for a few minutes and Santana started to relax to the lull of the rain on her window when Liam spoke again.

"I understand now where you got your nickname."

Santana let out a dry laugh and rolled her eyes. "Oh?" she said simply, glancing at him in an almost annoyed fashion. Liam did his best not to let the look bother him as he gave a twisted smile.

"Christian really did look death in the eye tonight."

Santana watched him as he glanced back over at her, "After all, you are _Muerte."_ He said.

_.-=-._*_.-=-._*_.-=-._*_.-=-._

Terms and Notes;

_mi orgullo y __alegria- _My pride and joy

_Muerte_ – Death

Sorry for the delay, folks! College started up and things got crazy. I don't know how often I can post these, but hopefully they don't take as long as this one did.

Also, huge thanks for my new Beta, Jessi! He's a total badass. Just saying.


	5. Chapter Three

P_u_tting o_n_ t_h_e R_i_tz; M_u_rder I_n_c.

C_h_apter T_h_ree

"_Two arms snaked around Santana's neck, fingers tangling in her hair and yanking her down to eager lips."_

_.-=-._*_.-=-._*_.-=-._*_.-=-._

She never did feel comfortable in someone else's home, but she was slowly accepting the fact that lately she'd been spending more time with Liam and Marla in their home then she spent in her own. While she did go home every night and whenever she needed a break from business, she didn't mind the new arrangement. The only sore spot with the deal was Rachel. Santana didn't hate her, and they were plenty amiable with each other, but she still didn't like being around her if she could help it.

Brittany, however, practically lived in the Levinsky home. Santana liked Brittany plenty. Often times, if Rachel was getting ready or attending to something else, Brittany and her would sit and talk. Santana was a little curious as to how someone like Brittany could be friends with Rachel, so when she asked, she was confused with the answer.

"So how are you and Berry friends?"

Brittany had shot her a confused look before smiling brightly. "Well, she and I have known each other for years and we can have sex without having to worry about things being awkward. She's fantastic in bed."

After Santana had gotten over the shock and wiped the image from her mind, she was eternally glad that Liam had chosen that moment to come home.

However, Brittany had been spending a little less time with Rachel and a little more time with Quinn. While Santana had no problem with it, she didn't like the fact that lonely Rachel meant more bonding time between the two of them. With Brittany gone, Rachel had started to invite Santana along with her to shows and speakeasies. Every night they spent in each other's company didn't ease the annoyance that Santana felt for the girl.

Mostly they talked about Rachel and her aspirations to be a Broadway star. Santana had only heard her sing once or twice; snippets of when Rachel was in the shower down the hall from where Santana was sitting on the couch, talking with Brittany. Nothing interesting came from the events. Rachel would question Santana about herself, but the Latina would constantly shrug off the question and switch to a sure-fire deterrent; Broadway.

To be honest, Santana just wasn't sure she could get along with the small brunette. They were so different in all the little things, but she realized with a pang of worry, that she and Rachel had the basics in common. Determination, stubborn will and a keen intellectual mind that put them on opposite sides of the arguments. One would joke they bickered like an old couple.

No, they just bickered like two stubborn girls who didn't agree with each other.

Nonetheless, Santana had her moments of adoration for the aspiring star. She was motivational and she was kind enough when she chose to be. Not to mention beautiful, but Santana wouldn't let that particular one come to the for-front of her descriptive qualities for Rachel.

Tonight, however, was a different night. While Liam usually chose to have Santana accompany him on missions, she was specifically ordered to take Rachel out. Which was a little odd in the first place, but Santana knew it was to keep Rachel preoccupied while Liam dealt with Mob business. That didn't change the fact that, for once, Santana had to ask Rachel to go someplace-and sound completely normal about it.

They, Rachel and Santana specifically speaking, were nestled into opposite sides of the couch while Liam readied his things to leave. He informed them he would be going to a Gentlemen's club with his boys then shot Santana a look before closing the door behind him. The Latina had arrived only minutes before and had just sat down when the Don had made leave. Marla wasn't home and Rachel told her that her mother was out on the town with some gal pals.

Like usual, Brittany had chosen this particular night to spend the evening with Quinn; leaving Santana and Rachel to fend for them selves. To Santana, she was going to treat this whole ordeal like it was a mission. 'It's orders from the boss; and it's just a night out with a friend.'

Repeating it like a mantra, Santana sighed and averted her gaze to anywhere but Rachel's face. "Hey, Rachel, how would you like to go out and do," she paused, searching for a word, "something?" she finished lamely. Sparing a glance to the girl, she frowned at the smug, knowing smirk she wore.

"I don't know. I was thinking we could just sit and enjoy each other's company here." She pursed her lips, feigning thought. Santana growled and shot her a glare, knowing damn well Rachel was being difficult.

Forcing a smile, Santana shrugged. "Oh come on, Rachel. When have I ever known you to pass up an opportunity to get out on the town?"

Rachel chuckled as her eyes met with Santana's, toying with her resolve and wondering just how long the Latina would last before she broke. She briefly considered the thought that if it came to it, she wouldn't put it past Santana to knock her out and drag her to something. Of course, Rachel knew that her father had put Santana up to the task, otherwise Santana wouldn't have bothered. "I don't know…"

"Oh shut it, Rachel. Get ready and let's go do something before I drag you out of here."

Quicker then she thought. Rachel's raised a brow, slightly shocked at Santana's lack of tact before she smiled and nodded. "If you say so, Santana. Though I have to say, the idea is rather appealing. Do promise we can try it out sometime, will you?" Tossing a wink at the shocked brunette, Rachel stood and headed back to her room to throw on a more suitable outfit.

_.-=-._

"I'm pleasantly surprised at your choice of show tonight, Santana." Rachel stated as they stood in wait to enter the theatre. "Florenz Ziegfeld and Oscar Hammerstein II make an award-winning duo. Jerome Kern, while very talented, would not be my first choice for a composer." Santana kept a small smile in place and gave the occasional nod to the ranting diva. She honestly had no clue what the show was about, who Florenz was or why she had even chose to attend the Broadway show. One reason, she hoped, was that after the curtains opened, Rachel would shut up until it was over.

Oh how wrong she was. Rachel had seen the show a couple times already, somewhere along the line of twelve, and she would alternate between quoting the scenes and explaining to Santana what was going on as the show progressed. So it was no surprise that by the time they were heading back into the night-time air after the show, Santana was close to throwing herself into traffic.

However, the biting chill and pouring rain outside quickly deflated her anger towards the brunette and shifted it to the weather. She placed her fedora back onto her head and tugged it down over her eyes to shield her from the rain. Her coat was tight around her torso and she shrugged it on around her frame and waited for a taxi.

However, Rachel had chosen to ditch the coat for the night and she had nothing to block her from the wind and rain. Santana spared a glance to her company and watched as Rachel tried in vain to curl into herself. Her arms were wrapped around her body and she was hunched over; sopping wet and her perfectly curled hair was now stringy and dripping with moisture. Santana sighed, rolling her eyes as she shrugged off her coat. Stepping over to Rachel, she draped it over the wet girl's shoulders before wrapping a shielding arm around her and holding her closer.

The shorter brunette looked at Santana in awe and, admittedly, shock as the taller girl tried her best to use her own body to block Rachel from the worst of the rainfall. "Thanks." Rachel offered, holding back the remark that was idling on the tip of her tongue.

Santana grunted and gave a shrug, "Can't let you get sick. Your dad'll kill me." she muttered. By the time they had flagged down a taxi, Santana was just as drenched, if not more so, then Rachel. As they crawled in, the teeth-chattering girls sagged into each other and remained like that the entire ride back to the Levinsky household.

As they entered into the house, Santana immediately noticed the lights were off and Liam or Marla had yet to return home. Rachel stumbled into the living room as Santana closed the door behind them and turned on the lights. Santana paused in the door way, shivering and soaked to the bone. The shorter brunette glanced back at the torpedo and smiled warmly. "You can take a shower and I'll throw your clothes into the dryer. Meanwhile, you can borrow some of my clothes."

Santana gave a swift nod as she followed Rachel into the bathroom. "Thanks." She muttered, watching as Rachel laid out a fresh towel and turned the water on to warm it up. The diva turned around, the small bathroom stealing any personal space and leaving them near toe-to-toe. Rachel's smile brightens and she just nods.

"I'll go get you some clothes." She excused, stepping past Santana and back into the hallway. Santana watches her leave with a sigh before peeling of her soaked clothes and hopping into the shower. The warm water was a welcome relief and instantly she soothed under the running water. It wasn't much longer until Rachel came back in with a soft knock to the door to lay out the clothes she'd chosen.

Santana watched her shape from behind the plastic curtains and was surprised when Rachel didn't leave immediately. Instead, she stood in the middle of the bathroom until Santana decided that something was up. Peeking around the curtain she eyed Rachel curiously. "Something up?"

Rachel, who had been worrying her bottom lip and shifting from foot to foot, glanced up at Santana; eyes flickering down her shoulders as the water beaded to tan skin and her wet hair cascaded down and clung to her. She sighed and shook her head. "No, I just—I don't like being out there alone."

Santana's brows furrowed but she gave a stiff nod. "Oh." She pursed her lips as she took in Rachel's new attire. It was a silky night-gown of a pearly white hue that hung off of her curves and stopped mid-thigh. Her hair was still wet and was draped across one shoulder and she played with the ends as she averted her gaze to the floor. "Well, you can stay in here. I guess I feel better knowing I can keep an eye on you, anyway." She explained.

Rachel chuckled softly and rolled her eyes, but smiled and hopped up onto the sink-slash-counter. She crossed her legs and turned her head to glance at Santana. The new view offered only a slightly better view of her chest, but Rachel was left disappointed when the curtain covered just what she wanted to see. She caught Santana's gaze; unabashed in being caught in the act as the Latina raised an eyebrow. "Santana? Thanks for taking me to the show." She paused, thoughtfully adding, "And for letting me use your coat. It was very nice of you, and while I'm sure you weren't doing it just because you wanted to, and more out of obligation, it was still thoughtful and appreciated."

Santana smirked and rolled her eyes before letting the curtain fall back into place and resuming her shower. "Yea, well? I told you, I can't let you get sick or your dad will kill me." She replied, running her fingers through her hair as she thought, "And thanks for going. I guess I sort of enjoyed it. I've never been to a show before." She admitted softly; the hiss of the shower almost drowning out her voice.

Rachel heard, though, because she gave a mock gasp, "Never been to a show? My dear friend, you need to hang out with me more! You're missing out on the finer things in life." She teased, swinging her legs from the edge of the sink.

Santana just groaned and shook her head. "Thanks for letting me use your shower, and letting me borrow your clothes."

"No problem, Santana. Any time."

There was a long pause after that in which neither girl spoke. The patter of rain on the small bathroom window dominated the atmosphere aside form the running water and the heater kicking in from the hallway. So when Rachel finally spoke up, Santana jumped and nearly lost her footing on the slippery bath tub floor. Flailing, she caught onto the windowsill and the wall, a multitude of cursing and several thuds filling the room as she tried to steady herself. Succeeding after a moment she worked cautiously to regain her footing. Meanwhile, Rachel and jumped down from the sink and was debating whether to open the curtain to check on Santana.

"Are you okay?" Rachel squeaked.

"Yea, I just…damn. I think I pulled something." Santana hissed back over the faint throb of pain from her popped hip and shoulder.

"Let me help." Rachel demanded, tugging at the curtains and pulling them out of the way. Santana caught it before she'd opened them completely and was protesting loudly.

"No, Rachel! I mean, Jesus, I'm in the shower. I'm fine." She tugged the curtains to replace them, but Rachel held on.

"Oh please, Santana. It's not like I haven't seen naked women before."

Oh God that just made it that much worse, but the comment had caught Santana off guard enough so that her grip loosened and Rachel tugged the curtains completely open. No hiding now, Santana just stood, facing Rachel with an annoyed brow quirk and her hands crossed over her chest and the water hitting her shoulder with no purpose.

Rachel, however, just smirked and let her gaze wander over Santana's exposed body with hungry eyes. "See, it's not that bad. Now just let me check…"

"I'm not letting you any where near me right now, Rachel. Thank you." Santana deadpanned, "So now that you've gotten your peek, can I please shower in peace now? I told you, I'm fine. I've had worse."

Rachel was ignoring Santana though, in favor of the deformed flesh over Santana's left breast. Under Santana's scrutinizing glare, she reached out a timid hand to brush her fingers along the scar. Santana shifted uncomfortably under the touch and after a moment, pulled her shoulder away. Rachel's gaze went up to meet Santana's with a worried look.

"Bullet wound." Santana explained, shifting her eyes to the floor, "Seven years ago."

"What happened?" Rachel's voice was soft, afraid if she spoke to loud Santana would snap at her.

Santana just shrugged and sighed. "Guarding job. Things got out of hand. I'd rather not talk about it." She admitted, eyeing Rachel hopefully.

Fortunately, the diva nodded and averted her gaze. "I'm glad you're okay." She admitted. Santana gave a nod before pulling the curtain back into place. Finishing her rinse quickly, she opened the curtains again to find Rachel standing in the same spot. Stepping around her, Santana grabbed her towel to dry off before pulling on Rachel's choice of clothes for her.

Sighing, she realized it was another silky night gown that barely covered her butt from the difference in her and Rachel's heights and it was a little looser because of her thinner frame. Rachel forced a smile before leading the way out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. Santana followed hesitantly until she stood at the foot of Rachel's bed as the smaller girl settled herself on the edge.

Looking up, Rachel patted the spot next to her until Santana sat down; trying her best to not let the night gown slide up too far. Rachel just offered her a soft smile before laying her head on Santana's shoulder. Unsure of what else to do, Santana snaked an arm around her back and gave a stiff squeeze.

"Santana?" Rachel started. Santana just gave her another squeeze in reply so Rachel continued. "Why aren't you with anyone?"

Santana frowned, puzzled over the question. "What do you mean?"

"Like a husband or someone who loves you and you can settle down with?"

Santana thought for a minute, eyes flashing darkly before she shook her head as she pressed her cheek against the top of Rachel's head. "My job requires all of my focus, Rachel. I can't settle down and no man would have the patience for me. It's not who I am and I wouldn't be happy tied down to someone like that."

Rachel frowned and pulled her head away to gaze at Santana questioningly. "But don't you ever want to fall in love?"

Santana scrunched her nose playfully and sighed. "I don't need a man to make me happy."

_Santana plucked her key from her pocket under the guiding light of her porch light and undid the deadbolt on her door. Swinging it open, she peered into the darkly lit living room. It had been a long day at work and the only thing she wanted was to crawl into bed beside her lover. Creeping into her bedroom as quietly as she could, she noticed the sleeping hulk of Matt Rutherford under her sheets. Smiling fondly, the Latina slipped into the covers after removing her soiled clothes and curled into his side._

_The man stirred and blinked sleepily before smiling at Santana. "Hey babe."_

"_Hey." Santana cooed, leaning in for a quick kiss. Matt smiled and turned onto his side to wrap an arm around the girl and holding her close. "How was work?"_

_Santana frowned. "Long."_

"_Sorry, I got tired and couldn't stay up to wait for you." He apologized, kissing Santana's forehead. The brunette just shook her head and stroked his bicep distractedly. _

"_It's okay, baby. I'm sure I can make it up to you." She suggested, watching a desire flash across Matt's eyes. She smiled and rolled Matt over, pressing him into the mattress and pressing her lips to his gruff ones. His kisses were sure and after a few months of perfecting it, not near as sloppy as they used to be. _

_As they spent the rest of the night making love and tangled in each other's limbs, Santana never thought she could love someone more._

_Another late night and she knew that her love would be waiting in bed for her; what she did not know was that she would find him sharing it with another woman. It was then that Santana decided nothing would distract her from her job and never again would she let herself be led astray by love._

Santana knew that Rachel was crazy. A lot could be said for the girl and crazy about topped the list. However, this was just plain ridiculous, she thought as she stared at the hulking club in front of her. A lit sign reading "Bijous" hung above the door and she groaned inwardly as Rachel led her through the door.

The inside was starkly different from any other speakeasy she'd been to. It was classy, well decorated and the air wasn't drunken and sloppy. Couples loitered about as well as single as they mingled or danced to a live band on a red-curtained stage.

"I can't believe you tricked me into going to a gay bar, Rachel."

And indignant scoff later, Rachel shot her a coy look. "Tricked? Hardly. I just thought you needed a new mind-frame and a change of pace. You said you didn't need a _man_. Maybe what you need is a _woman."_ She quipped.

Santana groaned. "I didn't mean that literally, Rachel. This is just...odd. I'm not gay. Like I told you, my job requires my full attention, I don't have time to—"

"Kurt! Mercedes!" Rachel interrupted, springing forward to embrace a short, portly black woman and a man who was well dressed and had a dignified air about him. Santana stopped and watched them curiously before Rachel turned to introduce her. "Kurt, Mercedes, this is Santana. She…works for my father."

A look of understanding passed over their faces before Mercedes stepped forward to give Santana a welcoming—and suffocating—hug. "Welcome to Bijous! Kurt here owns the place, but it's me who keep them coming back and wanting more." She winked jokingly and Santana gave a lopsided, awkward smile.

"I see. Nice place you have. I'm not usually…used to this sort of thing." She explained, casting an accusing glance at Rachel. Kurt laughed it off with a wave of his hand.

"Rachel comes here all the time and when she brings friends, they tend to say the same thing." Santana furrowed her brows is worry and glanced at Rachel again.

"Does she? I see. She never told me she had friends." She quipped. Rachel frowned and rolled her eyes.

"Many more then you, Santana. Unlike you, however, I prefer to spend my time in good company, with a good drink. Kurt?"

"You got it Rachel. Drinks on the house for you and Santana. Will you be joining Mercedes for her performance tonight?"

Rachel gave a disbelieving smile, "When have I not taken the opportunity to duet with the renowned Diva Mercedes?"

"That's my girl! Trust me, this song selection—" As Rachel and Mercedes walked away to discuss music, Santana was left with Kurt.

"You gay?" Santana asked bluntly, turning to gaze at Kurt. The man laughed and nodded.

"You?"

"No." Santana replied with a shrug, "I've just been assigned babysitting duty by Levinsky. Say one thing and that girl will take it leaps and bounds in the wrong direction." She explained.

"Hmm, so I'm guessing you let it slip you didn't need a man in your life?" Kurt asked, twirling his drink in his fingers as he watched the Latina.

Raising a brow, Santana glanced at him before nodding. "Something like that."

Laughing again, Kurt nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, Santana the Straight, will you care to join me for a drink?"

"When have I ever not taken the opportunity to drink with the great Kurt?" Santana mocked, taking on a Rachel-like tone. Laughing, the two of them headed for a table near the stage to drink.

As the night proceeded, and the supply of drinks coming at her very whim, Santana found herself lightening up and enjoying Kurt's company despite her earlier annoyances. They talked about everything from Kurt's founding of Bijous to his relationship with Mercedes, Rachel and his boyfriend. When asked about her self, Santana would just shrug, tell him she worked for Rachel's dad and left it at that.

By the time Rachel took to the stage with Mercedes, Santana was borderline buzzed and at just the right stage to be not completely in her right mind, but still sober enough to be aware of her self. But Rachel's outfit, comprised of sequin jewels elaborately embroidered on a very snug black dress with a slit that ran the entire length of her well toned thigh, had Santana staring in awe.

When she was joined by Mercedes and a jazz song brought the band to life, Santana had little else to distract her from being completely shocked, and, dare she admit it, turned on.

When Rachel and Mercedes exited stage right, and within a few minutes to change back into their normal attire, the girls had rejoined them at the table for a few drinks. Santana cast a sidelong look to her friend as they sipped on martinis, unable to shake the image of Rachel owning the stage from her mind.

Catching the lustful looks, Rachel smirked smugly; purposefully leaning across the table to give Santana an unobstructed view of the tops of her breasts through her dress. It wasn't long before a tall redhead had wandered over to the table and started a conversation with Rachel. They talked for awhile, but the unflinching flirtation from the redhead and the subtle brushing of her hand across Rachel's thigh had Santana itching to hit something.

"Hey Rachel, let's say we get back to your place?" Santana suggested loudly, sparing a sneer at the other girl as she did so, "It's getting rather late." Rachel rose an eyebrow, but didn't say anything else. Santana rolled her eyes. "Don't make me drag you out of here."

"Oh? I believe you do owe me that promise, Santana. But, let's save it for another time, shall we?" Turning to her company, she smiled sweetly. "It was nice meeting you and perhaps we'll meet again but I'm afraid my company wishes to return home. Farewell." She bid, watching the girl nod and walk away.

After wishing Kurt and Mercedes farewell, (and Santana promising she would indeed return) they two girls left Bijous. For the first time in a few days, the night sky was clear of rain and a humid mist hung in its place. Flagging down a taxi, they rode in mostly silence until they reached Rachel's house. Santana looked inside the window to see Liam and Marla in the kitchen, before turning to Rachel.

"Thanks for taking me there. Kurt's a cool guy and Mercedes seems really nice. And your performance was amazing. I see now why you aspire to be a star. You have the talent." She offered, stepping to the curb where her car was parked. Rachel followed, eyes hooded and a strange look swimming behind her eyes. Santana furrowed her brows when Rachel just smiled and stepped closer, causing Santana to take a step back until she was pinned against her car. Rachel leaned in, her breath hot on Santana's face as her eyes flickered down to her mouth. Two arms snaked around Santana's neck, fingers tangling in her hair and yanking her down to eager lips.

The kiss was simple. Soft but sure as Rachel pressed into Santana's front. It was languid and sweet, though Santana had yet to respond to Rachel's intrusion. When she hesitantly returned the motion is when Rachel's attentions grew more intense until Santana was getting dizzy and light-headed from the need for air.

Then, as quick as it begun, Rachel detached their lips and stepped away. Blinking, Santana stared after her as the diva smirked, bid her good night, and headed inside. She was left to her thoughts for only a moment before she managed to regain control of her limbs and got into her car and drove away.

_.-=-._*_.-=-._*_.-=-._*_.-=-._

**Slang Terms&Notes**

**No slang terms here.**

**Well, chapter three! Hope you liked it. I got most of this out in one night, actually. My muse just hit me and WHAM. There you go. =] **


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